


Forbidden Desire

by Smut_The_Setite



Category: Vampire the Masquerade - Fandom
Genre: Bite, Biting, Blood, Blue Blood, Clan Ventrue, Cunt, F/M, Fingering, Ghoul, Mixed-race, Nipple Play, Nipples, Oral Sex, Rim job, Rimming, Sex, Vampire Bite, Vampire Sex, Vampire the Masquerade, Vampires, Vampyr, Ventrue, WoD, World of Darkness, anarch movement, balls, blowjob, boob - Freeform, boobs, cock - Freeform, cum, dick - Freeform, finger blasting, finger fuck, jizz, masterbate, masterbating, nipple, pussy, sucking nipple, throat fuck, throatfuck, tits, twat, vagina, vampire, vtm, wank, wanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:06:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28941186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smut_The_Setite/pseuds/Smut_The_Setite
Summary: Monica of Clan Ventrue tasked her Ghoul, AJ, to perform a simple errand. Having failed the task, he now has to return his vampire ruler and explain what went wrong, fearing for the worst. Little does he know that this would ultimately bring the two closer together as a weird exchange unlocks the door to the next stage of their relationship.
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

It was that part of winter, where it’s dark in the days and the cold wants to grab you and peel away at your face. High in the sky shone the luminescent lunar orb that was my sole companion that dank winter night. Where I had once sought comfort in the blanket of stars and that mysterious rock in the sky, I now see only a mocking reminder of my predicament. Each phase of the moon is only the face of a nocturnal clock, bringing me a moment closer to my cursed fate, my eternal damnation.

But to be honest; my destiny was decided by my foolishness a few months ago when I met her. I was reckless in my desire for companionship, which allowed me to be easily taken in by that playful smile and gentle wave at The Asylum, the busiest and boisterous of night clubs in the city centre that somehow always stank of cheap booze and shattered dreams.

“Why did I ever go out that night?” I once asked myself. “How did they manage to convince me? I don’t even like clubbing...”

Ultimately, the answer did not matter. Whether it was coincidental happenstance or it was planned by her, there was no changing that I was no longer the mortal I once was.

Monica had known about me for some time, saw potential in me and decided to let me into her secret. She, and so many others that stalked the streets at night, was a vampire. It was hard to imagine at first, mainly for the obvious reasons. She didn’t exactly give off the stereotypical vampire vibe. She wasn’t some Count in a large castle in Transylvania, but a young mixed-race woman who looked about the same age as me. She wore ripped denim jeans, hightops, a tight-fitting shirt and leather jacket complimented only by her dark breaded hair. Her very presence just screamed punk activist.

But to save you the boring exchange of denial between us, Monica eventually convinced me what she said was true, that she was part of something called ‘The Anarch Movement’, and how it was filled with vampires who wanted to topple tyranny in all forms, all of which originating from ‘The Camarilla’ (in her opinion), an opposing faction of aristocratic vampires. Despite never meeting before, she somehow knew how angry I was with the injustice of the world and how I felt that almost every one of my superiors was some sort of money hoarding pig. We had plenty in common and I was intrigued by her proposal to make a difference. The perks of her blood enticed me.

She would promptly feed me her blood, or vitae as she called it, and explained the rules, for which there were only two:

Don’t break the Masquerade, which meant the mortals en mase could not know of vampiric existence.  
Don’t be a cunt, which needed no further explanation.

I had not become as she, a vampire, and neither was I wholly mortal. I was in a strange middle ground. I was a ghoul, an oddity amongst the rest of ‘normal’ society. My senses and endurance were generally sharper, but my friends and family had noticed a change in me beyond this. I was more work-driven than before, short-tempered and bossy, especially when it came to mistakes from myself and others around me. I felt alienated as they quickly distanced themselves from me.

Monica attempted to add comfort by sharing how she too was in the minority when it came to her ‘condition’. She described that there are different breeds of vampires, which they call Clans. She belonged to Clan Ventrue, masterful manipulators of the minds and emotions of others that took up the main bulk of Camarilla rulers, which they called Princes. Whilst respected within her coterie, she knew the other Anarchs did not fully trust her because of her Clan’s association with the enemy, how they are the enemy. To make matters worse, Monica’s sire, the one that embraced her, the one who turned her into a vampire, is known as the Ventrue Primogen, an alleged voice for the entire clan’s wishes and desires in a city.

It saddened me to learn that prejudice still existed in this undead civilisation, but knowing that vampires originate from humans, it shouldn’t have surprised me that some of our more ‘unpleasant’ traits carried over and evolved into something more grotesque.

Monica was my domitor and, in order for me to survive, I had to do as she said and not piss anyone off. More importantly, I was to feed on vampire blood, specifically hers. She demanded that I only fed from her, which I can only assume was a political move to protect her from her enemies, stopping them to get at her through me. At a bare minimum, I was to go to her once a lunar month. We agreed that the night of the full moon was a good obligatory feeding night.

Tonight was one of those nights and I was not looking forward to it one bit. It had nothing to do with the act itself. I was now quite comfortable with that.

I had grown lustful over it.

There was a strange, almost lascivious ritual we would partake in. We would sit together as she revealed her left naked arm, nipping the flesh by her wrist, staring right into my nervous emerald eyes, offering herself to me. I’d gently hold her soft arm and small hands, slowly sipping her vitae from her wrist. The last couple of times I did this, I found myself stroking her arm, massaging it slowly, rotating the tips of my fingers in a clockwise motion as the rush of ecstasy that was her blood raced into my mouth, performing wild arabesques across my tongue, before I gracefully swallowed all that she gave me, without wasting a drop.

I felt she knew that with each month I enjoyed this more, as evident by the cold sweat that would trickle down my brow (that she could probably smell) and the firm bulge in my pants that I awkwardly tried concealing every time feeding ceased. I’d sit oddly, almost recoiling away from her. I felt toyed with as she smiled coyly, slowly licking the puncture marks, playfully sealing the wound, not blinking, not averting her gaze from my neurotic stare. I often found myself biting my lower lip in anticipation, wanting her to lick my hole in the same passionate way she did her own. She would always leave me begging for more. It was never enough. She had become the centre of my world and I both loved and hated it. I was better than this. I never grovelled or begged for anything in my life, but none that mattered when I fed. Her ichor was a delicious delight that only belonged to us. The precious rubies she bled were forbidden to anyone else. Monica had become my forbidden desire, paining me greatly that I could not taste more of her, not just her vitae. I longed to embrace her as my own in ways I could only dream of doing.

But I was not so enthusiastic to see her that night for I knew I did wrong and I was going to be punished, and not the good sort of punishment either.


	2. Chapter 2

When I arrived at Monica’s haven, a small apartment on the edge of the city, it had started to rain. Despite the council estate looking and smelling like a derelict shithole, the chilling droplets that poked at me in this late hour were like needles that provided a much-needed freshness and some relief as I was in the centre of Anarch territory. It was not much, but enough to distract me from the mess I was about to walk into.

It was a brief moment, for a great sinking feeling in my heart blossomed as I saw her large motorbike parked poorly with the other dated vehicles. She was always fashionably late, and yet the one time I was certain she may kill me was the one time she was actually punctual.

“Fuck…” I lamented softly, staring at the damp Harly, remembering the times she would drive me around, holding onto her beautiful body, trying not to hold too tight to make it uncomfortable for her, or too soft so I’d fall off if she made a sharp turn. I was considerate like that, or so I liked to believe.

It reminded me how I daydream how things were different, how we could have actually been a couple, rather than this weird dom/sub relationship that I both despised and desired. For all the times I had imagined being fucked by her, there was nothing I wanted more than just to be with her. Despite being her ghoul, I’d rarely saw her outside of her coterie and it annoyed me, almost angering me actually. I just wanted to spend time with her, hold her close under the pale moonlight. I wanted to know what it felt like to properly hug her, hold her hand and show her that I didn’t just like her because of the vampire blood that ran through my veins. I fantasised Monica’s large but thin smile as I pleased her, that special glint in her eyes that screamed: “yes, I love you too.”

I sighed once more, knowing that could never come to pass. She was above and beyond anything I deserved.

Her apartment was on the top floor of one of the council estate blocks. The lift had not worked for years, apart from the doors that attempted to open before immediately slamming shut. I’d feel sorry for the residents on either side of the lift, as the noise it made was small but constant. It was a fleeting sympathy, for I had more important things to worry about. Not getting mugged by the teens that congregated on the steps that belonged to some gang was one of those things. They were not there, only a teen mum fighting with a buggy up the stairs, which I found more unnerving. I offered to help, but she politely declined as one of the wheels snapped off. When I asked again, she told me to fuck off.

I did as I was told.

Room 309. That was Monica’s apartment, the adjacent left room to the stairs. A dirty scuffed wooden door with the blue and yellow number plate almost screwed onto the door. I exhaled softly, knocking three times on the door. I paused, knocking a further five times, as instructed by my domitor. That was how she knew it was me. On the fourth knock, the number plate fell off, making a ‘clang’ as it bounced on the hard surface at my feet.

There were a few moments before Monica would answer the door. I was glad it was still raining, for the gentle hiss and pitter-patter of the drizzle was the only thing stopping me from losing it. That was until the shrilling scream of the infant from before reverberated across the estate like some haunted banshee that just made me wince.

The door would open, revealing Monica of Clan Ventrue in a tight-fitting green vest and black jeans. She smiled when saw it was me, adding a small dose of comfort.

“Hey AJ.” She greeted, leaning against the frame, her eyes checking me out, her smile quickly vanishing when she saw something was amiss. “Where is it?”

“I-”

“Get in.” She snapped, furiously grabbing at my shirt, pulling me into the building, almost lifting me off my feet in the process. I didn’t know much about the different vampires, but she was much more brutish than the typical Ventrue.

I stumbled and shuffled my way into the hallway, nearly losing my balance as she pushed me into the well-lit living room that just smelt old and musty. My heart was racing. I wasn’t expecting her to lose it that quickly.

“Please Mon,” I begged, holding myself for comfort, trying to ignore the tear in my new shirt. “I can explain.”

“Damn straight you’re gunna explain.” She went, throwing her arms up in the air. “You know how fuckin’ easy this job was?”

“I know bu-”

“I could have got my little cousin to do it. Wish I asked Ricky instead.”

“It’s just that-”

“I thought I could trust you AJ.” She spat. “I thought you were reliable and not some fuck-”

“Can you let me tell you what happened?” I interrupted. Foolishly, you might say, given the offending wide-eyed look she gave me. “I did as you said. Went to the address, alone, on foot. Made sure no one was following me.”

I paused, only because I was struggling to breathe.”

“...Aaaaaaaaand?” She said, leaning forward slightly.

“There was nothing there.”

She stuttered, dumbfounded by my apparent stupidity. “What do you mean it wasn’t there? How can a whole fucking-”

“It was gone.” I finished, not removing her face from my sight. “All that was there was rubble.”

Monica’s body language changed in an instant. She loosened up and stopped leaning forward. I was still cautious of her, for she could still take her anger out on me.

“It looked like there was a fire.” I finished, relaxing softly. “Recently.”

She placed her fingers to her mouth, followed by a short intake of air. I wasn’t prepared for this emotional response. Monica never told me what it was that I was collecting, only ‘a box from a guy’.

“Everything ok?” I asked cautiously, taking a couple of steps closer.

Silence answered, save the soft ‘poofsch’ noise of the cushion on the sofa she slowly sat on. Like a timid animal, I walked to her side and spoke again. “Mon?”

“Are you sure?” She replied quietly with a slight vibrato that meant she was going to cry, her hands on her lap.

“P-Positive.” I replied, leaning back from her. “No one was there...but-”

She looked up, catching me off guard.

“I asked one of the neighbours. Said it was a gas explosion. There-”

“FUCK!” She roared, hurling something into her TV screen, causing an unpleasant smash. Instinctively, I covered my eyes and moved back to avoid any it hitting me in the face.

“Gas explosion? Fucking Bullshit.” She spat through gritted teeth, calming down with frightening speed. “This was Max.” She stated, clearly pissed.

Max was the name of her sire.

“How do you-”

“Cause that was my home AJ!” She yelled, her voice breaking at the end.

“Shit…” I exhaled, slowly sitting on the arm of the sofa next to her.

“No one else knew where I lived before...well, you know.” Her voice trailed off towards the end, exhaustedly. “He always said he would get back at me for betraying him, for making him look stupid in front of the Cam, to disappoint his family.”

She looked up at me, almost as if she remembered I was still here. A ruby tear swelled above her cheek. “The box I asked you to get?” She said, shaking her head. “Clothes. Family photos.” She snorted a laugh then. “McStuffington.”

I pulled a face, curiously confused.

“A teddy bear I won at a fair when I was eight.” She smiled weakly. “Fucking dumb, righ’?”

“Not at all.” I replied honestly, watching her sink back into herself.

“God...I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“Don’t say that.” I said soothingly, trying to put an arm around her for comfort. I’m not sure if she saw me do this or it was bad timing, but as I went to hug her, she stood up. I did too.

“This is all my fault.” She declared, pacing back and forth in the living room. “If I had only listened to him-”

“No, don’t you fucking dare blame yourself.” I snapped, walking towards her. “That’s exactly what he’s trying to make you think!”

“But what if he’s right AJ?” She panicked. “What if all of this is for nothing? Look at us! What have we accomplished? What if we’re the reason the SI-”

“Stop it.” I commanded, holding the top of her forearms firmly. “Don’t listen to him. He’s trying to get at you. You’re a much better person than Max ever is. The Monica I know wouldn’t let anyone’s scare tactics get to her.”

Before I could draw the next breath, Monica broke free from me and, with a blistering speed, shoved me into a wall, squeezing her hand around my throat as I lost my footing. I could barely breathe, fairly certain I was going to die any second now, staring into the eyes of my pissed-off sire, and yet there was a small piece of me loving this sensation. I didn’t realise I had a choke kink, and I hated that this was where self-discovery occurred. Don’t get me wrong, I was more concerned about dying than being aroused!

“Don’t you say you know me.” She snarled with a guttural tone I was not used too. Her fangs were bared. Something else was speaking.

“You don’t know shit. You have no fucking idea what it’s like being the only Ventrue in an Anarch domain, being treated like shit whilst the fucking Baron [Anarch Ruler] and every other fucker at the Rants Cody keeps dragging me too, tell you how we’re all equal when we’re clearly not. I joined The Movement to avoid all that political shit, cause I wanted to be free but it’s just fucking lies. My family are probably dead AJ! Fuckin’ blown up by that fuckin’ cunt!”

She barely released the tension of her grip, allowing my vision to return. 

“So don’t stand there pretending you know how everything works.”

I tried to respond, but all I did was gasp a ghastly wheeze. “This...isn’t-”

“Oh? You wanna say something?” She mocked, squeezing harder again for a second. “Please AJ, do tell me:” She paused for a second longer than what seemed natural. “What are you thinking?”

In any other scenario, I would have lied. That instant was not the right time to share my honest thoughts. Looking back, I feel she used one of her vampire powers to compel me to speak truthfully. But at the moment, I felt there was no reason to lie to her. It seemed like the most logical thing to do, to be honest with her, hiding no secrets.

“Are you going to kill me, or are we going to fuck?”

Whatever was happening with Monica, what I said seemed to snap her out of her trance as she retracted her fangs and looked more like herself, still pissed but now incredibly confused.

“Wha’...I...the fuck?!” She muttered bewilderedly. “I literally have my hand around your throat!”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

She let go instantly, breaking eye contact as I hit the floor with my knees, catching myself with my hands, coughing violently, wandering why I shared that piece of information with her.

“Are you ok?” She asked eventually.

“Been better.” I choked.

“No, I meant in the head.” She said, offering me a hand. I took it, supporting myself on her as she hoisted me up. “Why would you think that right now?”

I was unsure how to approach this, as she was smiling but she couldn’t be happy with this, given everything that happened. It’s moments like this that remind me how terrible I am with relationships.

“I...I dunno.” I eventually answered after building some confidence in myself to form legible words. “I didn’t know I was into that...until…”

“Wow…” She sighed, sounding truly exhausted now.

“I’m so sorry.” I said pathetically.

“No-no, don’t be. I should be apologising. That really was my fault. I shouldn’t have taken things out on you.” She chuckled awkwardly, shaking her head slightly. “I don’t kink shame either.”

I was embarrassed beyond words. I wished her chokehold did kill me and I didn’t have to put up with this horrible aftermath. I nervously pinched at my clothes waiting for her to say something.

“I, uh…” I started, slowly edging for the hallway. “I think it’s probably best that I-”

“Hold on.” She interrupted calmly with that fucking smile. I froze like a rabbit in headlights.


	3. Chapter 3

“Why were you thinking about sex at all?” She asked, taking a few steps closer to me. “That doesn’t seem like you.”

“W-Wh-What do you mean?”

“You heard my coterie ‘joke’ around, righ’?” She chortled, now standing in front of me, her arms crossed just under her chest. “You always clam up when they talk about that sort of stuff.”

“It’s…” I began, not wanting to tell Monica how I felt. Not like this. “It’s not...”

“Not what?” She asked caringly. “You can tell me.”

I sighed. “It’s...it’s not that I don’t think about sex or enjoy talking about it. I’m not a virgin either, by the way. It’s just that...whenever I hear them talking about it...they’re talking about you and if I say anything…”

My nerves (which still borderline absolute terror) got the better of me. I hoped that Monica would work out what I was trying to say, but she stood there patiently with a genuinely concerned face. I tried pushing on.

“They...they’d take the piss...of both of us.”

She raised her eyebrows, which seemed to straighten her posture and help her breath (not that she needed too of course).

Now she got it. She replied with a soft “Oh…”

Holding my fingers in a tight vice, I slowly nodded, desperate to leave now. “Look, I should probably-”

“So you do enjoy it.” She interrupted with a hushed tone, taking one final step closer. “Feeding from me.”

“Well, doesn’t every-”

“Oooooh no, don’t get dense with me now.” she went, grabbing my left wrist as I tried to walk away. “Yeah, everyone loves vitae. It’s like fuckin’ heroine, but the stroking? Bitting your lips as I lick the wound? That ain’t normal hun.”

As she spoke, her thumb massaged my wrist slowly anticlockwise as the other hand found it’s way up my shirt. I was startled by this, not that she was touching me, but how she felt. For the first time since I became a ghoul, her soft fingers that stroked my wrist were warm. She felt human, not some dead corpse! She stroked my stomach with the pads of her fingers, her nails occasionally teasing my skin as the arm slowly made it’s way up my chest.

“What are you doing?” I asked nervously.

“What does it look like?” She grinned, a hand leaving my wrist.

“I know, but...”

I tried to speak, but her free hand now found my belt.

“Do you think I would make such a show out of the feeding if I wasn’t into you?” She asked bluntly. “Yeah. I’m fucking pissed. I’m always fucking pissed. The Movement, the Cam, Max. Everyone fucking winds me up...but you’ve always been there for me. Even now, when I tried to kill you-”

“That wasn’t you.” I said softly, holding the hand on my chest over my shirt.

“You get me…” She finished. “So don’t try and tell me you don’t want this.” She smiled, cheekily cupping my groin. “Fuck…” She sighed, grabbing it. “That’s so hot.” She added, removing an arm from my shirt and moved it to my neck, pulling me towards her. We were so close that I could smell the subtle scent of lavender, the sweet smell that lingered on an otherwise musty attire.

And then her tongue was in my mouth.

I had not invited this spectacle that turned and twirled with my own. I only wished to look at her face and admired my vampiric trophy, but I barely caught a glimpse of her face, for her tongue was so urgent to meet my own. Plunged like some writhing Leviathan into my gaping maw, it overpowered my senses as it sought some unreachable terminus near my uvula. It wiggled, it throbbed and made contortive breadths within my mouth. Her parting shaking lips sent wild tremors along my nerves, summoning sensual sentiments I had never indulged before, feelings I did not believe were possible. I found myself swimming in an ecstatic giddiness causing my heart to run laps around my chest.

I kissed her back trying to grab and pull at her fine but rough dreads, to hear her moan louder, so I could revel how I was making her feel. She clawed at my chest like the animal she had become, pushing me against the wall (again) making a loud ‘thud’, knocking hot air out of me. At that moment, I loosened my grip of her and went to hold her perfect head, but she was faster, grabbing my hands, curling her soft fingers around my own, pinning me back. Our bodies were touching, her waist against my own, with her thigh against my concealed erection.

I wanted to say something, to tell her how much I wanted this, how I craved to be her bitch, but I couldn’t form the noises to convey a meaningful coherent sentence. I could only pant like a dog.

“Fuck…” Monica puffed like she had run out of air. She swayed slowly, rubbing her leg on my bulge. “You’re so hard.”

I wheezed, actually needing to breathe. “You’re so fucking hot.”

“Shut up.” She dismissed with a snort.

“You are. God, the moment you called me over that night at The Asylum...I...I just wanted to fuck you so bad.”

She smiled. I tried to move one of my hands. She sensed the movement and released my right hand and slowly went to stroke her smooth flawless cheek with the back of my fingers.

“You’re perfect.” I smiled as I felt her unbuckle my belt with her free hand.

“No, I’m not.” She blushed as I fondled her face.

“You are too me, and that’s all that-”

I felt her hand slowly worm it’s way down my trousers, trying to find my cock whilst still looking at me. I quickly (almost too quickly) unbuttoned my trousers which immediately cause them to drop far enough that the rough jeans were still on me, but down enough for her to see my erect cock stand proudly in my boxers. She finally adverted her gaze from my face, turning her head to ‘it’, biting her lower lip. Seeing her face respond like this nearly made come all over the floor.

“I love seeing dicks like that.” She spoke softly, breathless and excited, removing her hand to the base of my stomach, and teasingly stroking my cock like it was some exotic pet.

“I’m literally throbbing for you.” I whispered, making it to move on its own, loving the sensation of it bounce in her loose caged fingers.

She moaned, before reaching for the waistband, slowly pulling it down and back. She grinned with anticipation as we watched it spring out.

“Oh my god…” she went, immediately grabbing my dick. She slowly slinked in, inviting me for another passionate wet tongued kiss whilst slowly jerking me off, not letting me move from the wall. Her grip was soft but firm, taking her time with each stroke. I was almost shaking with excitement, unable to keep my hands off her. I held her face, caressing her sleek cheeks, perfect and unblemished face as smooth as marble and delightfully warm, treating her like the delicate prize she was.

As I moved my hands down her face, stroking her neck and onto her slender body, she parted from me to quickly throw up her vest, chucking it somewhere behind her as I tore off her bra, allowing me to lunge at her beautiful tits. Both careful and aggressive, I squeezed one of them, drawing my fingers back and pinching her erect nipple with the very edge of my fingernails. I managed to pull away from her and bend down to that get it in my mouth. I toyed with her tit with my tongue, playfully biting her nipple, whilst pulsating her boob with my hand. She sighed and groaned as I noisily sucked her breast, removing her hands from me and my dick. She held onto my neck and upper back, dicking her nails, almost piercing the flesh. She playfully nibbled on my ear.

Monica pulled away for a moment, making me think for a split second that something was wrong, that this was too much, what we were doing was a mistake. Maybe she didn’t like me biting her, or being as rough in my fondling. She reached for a hand, barely holding it as she tried eloquently leading me somewhere. I hurriedly kicked off my shoes and allowed my trousers and boxers to hit the ground, free from the restrictions of my half-worn clothes. My topless vampire lover, my domitor, escorted me, her trouserless ghoul, into her bedroom.

I had never entered her room before. The door was always shut, presumably locked, and she gave me the dirtiest looks when I inquired about it when I first entered the flat a few months ago. The dirty look she gave me over her shoulder now was a very different one this time. It wasn’t a repulsed rejection but aroused invitation.

It would come to no surprise to you that the room had no windows. Or at least, not anymore. They were bordered up by thick steel panes that no mortal would be allowed to get away screwed into place like this. The bed was a large double bed with very little furnishings besides this. A dirty chest of drawers and some boxes in the corner of the room were all that I saw when she leaned around the door frame, flicking on a tiny light switch.

When Monica fully entered the room, she elegantly twirled around to face me, her smile happier than ever, showing some of her teeth, not fangs. Walking backwards, she let out a small childish giggle as she pulled me towards her, where we kissed again, not as full-on as before. It was shortlived, for she aggressively pushed me onto the bed. It was an exhilarating shock and far more like the Monica I knew. Rough and playful.

Much to my surprise, her mattress was soft, almost too soft, as felt like I was about to start sinking into her bed and velvet duvet sheet. I went to sit up, but with a single finger, she pushed me back, so that I was leaning, neither lying nor sitting on the bed.

“Stay.” She commanded.

I said not a word. I only obeyed.

With my blessed unworthy eyes, I watched Monica of Clan Ventrue stand tall, proud and confident, flaunting every bit of sex appeal and control she had over me. She was my domitor in all senses of the word. My creator, my mistress, my owner, my life. I was ready for her to truly make me hers, to own me.

She too kicked off her shoes, much faster than I did my own. Then Monica just stood there. Didn’t remove her jeans, didn’t touch herself. Nothing. All she did was stand there, with subtle curves in her posture, forcing me to just stare at her body and that fucking smile. It was frustrating as hell not to be able to do anything, not to jerk off to the sexiest woman I had seen, or rip off her jeans with my fucking teeth. And yet, it was the hottest thing she could possibly do here.

Or so I thought.

“What do you think?” She asked quietly, moving her arms and body, forming model-esque poses for me, smiling and winking at me over her shoulders. “Do you like what you see?”

“Oh fuck Mon…” I gasped. I felt I was shaking, and I wasn’t sure whether it was because it was difficult keeping myself propped up like this, or I was just ecstatically horny and aroused by this blood-drinking goddess. “I fucking love your body.”

“Yeah?” She smiled.

“Yesss…” I breathed.

She didn’t say anything. Monica stood there and rocked her ass side to side at just the perfect slow tempo, hypnotising the poor fool that was her ghoul. Her hands went to unbutton her trousers. Just as slow as her shaking ass, she bent over to remove her trousers, revealing her small yet peachy ass.

“Oh fuck me…” I gasped, sitting up slightly.

“I said ‘stay’!” She reinforced, not turning round to inspect my posture. She heard the soft and muffled creaking of the mattress rise and fall with my body. “So, you like it?” She asked eventually in a cheeky and playful tone.

“Mon...your ass is fucking perfect.”

“Is it really?” She teased, standing up straight, snapping the waistband of her underwear, revealing her bum in its full naked glory, dropping them on the floor sexily. “Do you want...this?” She added, gently spanking herself. “How about...this?”

She slowly spun around, revealing her shaved pussy, running her hands in opposite directions. Her right arm was like a snake, crawling up her stomach and her hand was the python’s jaw, squeezing the life out her left breast. The left arm, another snake whose fangs penetrated Monica’s pussy, slowly and carefully. Monica began to contort and moan as she aroused herself, pulling faces and staring into my eyes when she was able to keep them open. I bit my lower lip and know why I was shaking now. I panted pathetically, unable to present myself as calm.

She laughed as she fingered herself, no doubt enjoying every bit of herself and my frustration. What felt like hours was only seconds.

“Holy fuck…” she sighed, slowly approaching me. “I can’t even remember the last time I played with myself. It just don’t feel the same, you know?”

I didn’t speak. I only watched her sink to her knees as I sat up.

“You helped me feel alive again AJ. Thank you.”

“Not a-”

“Shhh…” She went, leaning across as she put a finger on my lips, sliding it into my mouth. It was warm and tasteless, but so stimulating all the same. I sucked the hard digit gently, which made her smile, exhaling an airy orgasmic chuckle.

“You’ve said and done enough.” She declared softly, removing her finger, pulling herself away from my face, stroking my thighs, as if she was digging in claws, but without connecting her nails. “Night after night, we’ve put you though shit. Let me make it up to you.”

She finished kissing the head, down to the underside with the tip of her tongue. She smoothly moved up and down the shaft with a series of light, gentle kisses before licking the rest, tasting as much as she could, as if she was getting an idea of its size and texture (not that there was much for her to explore, to be totally honest). After a short while of teasing me like this, Monica started to gently flick my frenulum with the tip of her tongue. Back and forth, up and down, slowly creeping her lips up over the head, then backing off. The heat from her mouth and breath made it throb in anticipation, almost causing me to actually beg for her to put it in her mouth.

As if she read my mind, she did. It continued to throb and jumped about as she licked and sucked my cock. She gaged as she forced her head all the way down. There was precum as I briefly held her head in place, looking at the space where my cock should have been. Noisy animalistic moans came from me, almost roaring with delight by how perfect her technique was.

I very nearly came, for real this time. Again, she somehow seemed to know this, stopping just before I had jizzed in her throat. She gasped loudly, opening her mouth wide as she lifted her head out of my saliva-coated cock. I quickly got up, nearly kicking Monica in the head as I swung my legs over her, standing up. She stood up as well, holding each over close as I furiously fingered her tight twat. To say she was moist or wet would be a small understatement. Much to my surprise, she was sopping. I shivered with the thought of how much I aroused her, how I was superior to her in some way, be it for a short moment, a place and time where I was allowed to be with no consequence.

We moaned and sighed together, holding Monica in place as she squirmed and quivered as I furiously finger-fucked her. By the time I roughly (yet playfully) pushed her on the bed, she was practically screaming.

There she laid, naked and pure, her body inviting me to be with hers. I watched her tummy rise and fall with slow breathes, her boobs succumb to the gentle pull of gravity. She was mine for the taking.

I carefully climbed onto the bed, awkward in my movements as I was neither dexterous nor used to this mattress. I gave looks between her face and my dick, guiding it into her pussy with my hand. She gave a small yelp like a small puppy that had been hurt as I slid my dick in her.

“You ok?” I asked caringly, holding her head, stroking it with a finger.

“Yes.” She sighed, smiling, holding my hand. “It’s...it’s been a while.”

“You need me to be gentle?”

She shook her head. “No, it hasn’t been that long.” She affirmed, pulling my head. “I wanna feel you cum inside my pussy.”

“Oh fuck…” I shook. “That’s so hot.”

She giggled “Fuckin’ fill me with your cum!” She ordered aggressively, staring into my eyes.

I started to slowly fuck her, sliding in and out, feeding her every inch of my dick. She sighed and groaned, and I moaned, holding onto each. Monica dug her nails into my back, clawing the shit out of it. I was allowed to bite her back, drawing blood and feeding from my domitor as we picked up the tempo.

Still in missionary position, I leaned upwards, now on my knees holding her waist and pounding her, thrusting my dick in and out her as we got more into it. Like a wolf in heat, I panted as I fucked harder than I had fucked before, driving my cock into her twat, watching my Monica’s body move with the creaking bed, her tits bouncing around as she yelled my name, her hands by her head.

When I came, I let out a loud moan, sighing her name. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I stayed in place, letting her feel my penis come in her, make her feel the last throbs.


	4. Chapter 4

Monica laughed excitedly, enjoying my surprise for her.

“You like that?” I gasped with an exhausted smile.

“Fuck yes…” She replied. “Oh my God...AJ...you’re incredible.”

I performed a weak attempt at a laugh as I finally removed myself from her, aware of the remainder of my cum following me out. I crashed next to Monica, both of us now lying on our backs. She rolled towards me, hugging me.

“Thank you.” She whispered.

“What for?”

“Nothing.” She went, nuzzling into me. “ You deserve better than me.”

She was probably right, but I didn’t want anyone else. I told her this, she giggled. We laid there for a minute, saying and doing nothing, just hugging and being happy being with each other.

“What time is it?” She asked suddenly.

I quickly turned my head around to find a clock, before turning it to a bedside table, one that I hadn’t noticed previously. There sat an unpleasant digital alarm clock.

“Shit.” I chuckled. “It’s six-thirty.”

“Shit.” She bit suddenly, sitting upright.

“What is it?”

“The sun will rise soon. I can feel it.”

“Oh…” I replied sadly. Somehow forgetting Monica was a vampire. I slowly sat up with her. “I should probably leave you to-”

“Actually…no.” She said, turning back to me with a mischievous grin. “Stay.”

“But...what about you? What about-”

“AJ. I sleep with the door open all the time. I only have it shut when I have people here. Please. Stay with me, until the sun comes up.”

I smiled, a tear welling in my eye. I tried to conceal it. “I’d love too.” I said, but I sounded far too emotional to pretend nothing was wrong.

“You crying?” She giggled, cuddling with me on the bed once more.

“No...it’s man sweat...from the eyes.”

She cackled at my awful joke. “What sort of shit is that hun?”

“Alright, you got me.” I went, both of us laughing. “Sorry, I’m just...happy, to be with you like this.”

“Me too.” She went. “I won’t let the others make fun of us anymore.”

“Us?” I repeated, looking down at her.

“Us.” She confirmed looking back, giving each other a kiss, before she buried her head on my chest.

I was unable to view the world outside of the room like this, but I immediately knew when the sun had peaked over the horizon. Monica’s skin no longer bored the warm human feel but was cold and lifeless once more. She grew paler too, looking recently deceased. It didn’t feel the same being embraced with a corpse. Despite this, I chose to stay there for another hour debating my life choices. As happy as I was in that moment, on the beginning with something special with Monica, I knew things were only going to get harder. The risks had multiplied by a billion for we both had a lot more to lose now.

I decided that none of it mattered. If I was destined to become a vampire I would take it. If either one of us died, I hoped that we would die by the other’s side, so neither Monica nor I would die in solitude. Let’s face it, we all die alone at the end. I did not want either one of us to feel alone. And yet, I hated it.


End file.
